tunnel vision lights my way
by betweentheraindrops
Summary: RM, late s3 drabbles. It's a goodbye and everything they should've said rolled into a shared glance.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Post break up in 3x16 is a really intriguing time period for RM, so I'm writing various situations that I'd have either liked to see or thought was necessary to see (but didn't). They'll be varying in length and longer than traditional drabbles because these kids drive me crazy. This one takes place at the end of 3x17 when Marissa turned around and decided not to attend Ryan's party.

Title comes from "Humiliation" by The National.

* * *

She takes a long breath when she sees him at the end of the pier, and finds that her legs feel like jello. It'd been stupid to come to the Bait Shop, but she couldn't help herself.

Ryan's reading something from a piece of paper and his expression is blank. She isn't too far away, but she can see the crinkle of his eyes and a crease in his forehead.

With the mix cd she made him still in her hands, she comes close enough for the past to catch up with her. _Go_ , he had said, and she did.

She stops in her tracks, a new wave of emotion coming over her. She thinks she'll set him free, once and for all. Give him the break he's needed for months now, solidify his words on the phone the other night.

And so she turns around, fingers gingerly holding the cd. It's about time she let him be. He doesn't need her in his life anymore, not after the year she's put him through. It's the thoughts she's been mulling around for awhile now.

Marissa hears the ocean waves and decides to visit the lifeguard stand, her second home. It isn't until she hears her name called once, twice that she realizes who it's from.

"Hey," Ryan says when he walks up to her, stuffing his mother's letter in his back pocket.

"Hi," she says small, and hates how her voice sounds.

He doesn't ask her where she was going because he knows where, and he knows she decided on not coming to the party. But still, she almost did.

Marissa eyes him warily, thinking back to the model home and the new boy who saw her for who she was. Even after all this time, the tumultuous year they had, she still feels so strongly for him. She thinks that probably won't ever change.

Running a hand up her arm, she remembers. "Oh – happy birthday."

She hands him the cd with her limp arm and winces when he spots her bandages.

His eyes widen and the idea that he still cares makes her ache. "What happened?"

Ryan's on alert now, and he notices her tired eyes and the bruise on the top of her forehead. He steps closer and she forces herself not to retreat.

"It's nothing," she says with a wave of her good hand. "I'm clumsy is all."

It's said carelessly and with her eyes averting his, which only makes him worry more.

"Marissa-"

"I'm fine, Ryan," she tells him, this time with a more defined voice. Her eyes reach his and she begs him to drop the topic. She won't tell him about the model home, won't drag him into more mess he wants nothing part of.

He nods reluctantly and turns over the cd in his hands. He won't tell her he saw it in the trailer earlier and was much more moved about this gift than anything the Cohens had planned. "Thank you."

"It's not a big deal. You wanted another copy."

Ryan's eyes meet hers again and they're both at a loss of what to say. So much and so little at the same time. Something in him wants to tell her about the letter from his mom, another Atwood to disappoint him yet again. But he doesn't, of course he doesn't. They're oceans apart and have been for weeks.

She feels like crying. It's all she's been doing for the past few days, it seems, and she's tired of it. That's why she turned around before he'd caught sight of her.

"I'm gonna go," she mutters, and watches his eyes lower slightly.

Ryan almost touches her but decides against it. "You don't have to."

"Yeah, I do."

It's an exchange of apology when their eyes meet and he wants to tell her to stay but no words come out. It's a goodbye and everything they should've said rolled into a shared glance, and Ryan facing a reality in which Marissa isn't there doesn't seem right.

Running a hand through her hair, she resigns herself to the idea she'll always feel something for him. It breaks her heart and it's painful, but at least they'll keep on pretending what they had wasn't the realest thing either of them had ever felt. She's done it before and she'll do it again.

She turns to leave and makes sure he doesn't see the tears that fall soon after.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Takes place during 3x18. I'm still a bit appalled that the writers brought Trey back into the story (mind it was only one episode and he wasn't even there) and Marissa was mentioned once in relation to how Trey wrecked Ryan's new life or something like that. These drabbles won't be related to each other, they're just my ramblings and self-proclaimed wish fulfillment with what we were given.

* * *

Marissa doesn't see him until she's walking up the ramp of her favorite lifeguard stand, and when she does, her mouth goes dry.

He's sitting with his back to the stand, and the way his eyes survey her makes her feel exposed in a way she hasn't in weeks. She hasn't seen him in days, has been skipping multiple classes just to avoid him and everyone else. Of course he'd come here, her one place of freedom.

Her feet back pedal and her eyes are downcast.

"You don't have to go," Ryan says, and her eyes look at him in wonder.

How he can act like they're not in this limbo is beyond her. Every time she sees him her heart constricts and she feels queasy. Of course, he hadn't acted like breaking up was as big a deal as she did.

"It's fine," she says, trying to appear flippant.

When she turns around to leave, she spots a toy car between his fingers and the uncharacteristic object is odd and piques her curiosity.

She could walk away. It'd be easy to ignore the look in his eye and the toy in his hands. She notices then the lost look on his face and thoughtful way he's sitting on her lifeguard stand, a place he knows without a doubt she comes often.

He notices her glance and moves the toy car so that it sits by his side. "It's from Trey."

Marissa frowns and her eyes widen. "You talked- you're talking to him?"

It's the highest her voice has reached in days and the way she's eyeing him makes him remember everything about her and him and them. He knows that, deep down, he came to the lifeguard stand hoping she'd be there too.

"Of course not," he tells her, and watches her shoulders fall in relief.

She takes a few steps up the ramp and bites her lip. Being around Ryan nowadays is too intense, too much of everything all at once.

"Jess is back in town; she gave it to me."

Marissa nods and is careful not to get too close to him. "What does he want?"

Ryan is staring at the ocean, and that gives her time to look at his face. The darkness of his eyes and the way his jaw is clenched. Being near him again is strange but completely familiar.

"I don't know."

She doesn't know what to say. She's tried time and time again to get him to talk about Trey and each time he resorted to his punching bag or an argument about Johnny.

It seems perfectly clear what Trey wants. He wants Ryan back in his life. She can't really blame Trey for that; she'll just blame him for everything else. "Please, Ryan. It's obvious."

He looks up at her, face blank. "What is?"

"He wants you to forgive him."

Marissa thinks her heart will break in even more tiny pieces if Ryan indicates it's something he'll do. The tension between them over Trey never came to much, but this- this would break her. After she shot the only blood relative Ryan had left in his life, of course.

He looks at her and a ghost of a smile appears on his face before it fades away. She has to know by now that he'd never let Trey back into his life after what happened. She does, right? Of course, he recalls, he never really indicated that to her.

Ryan moves over on the lifeguard stand, implying that she should sit. He watches her bite her lip in contemplation before sitting at least a yard away, legs crossed and hands folded in her lap.

"I couldn't- I could never," he tells her quietly, and she breathes a tiny sigh of relief, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Ryan. "Just another piece of the past, you know?"

Her thoughts go back to the shooting, to the terror of that night and the idea settling in that she may have taken a life. But she saved Ryan's life and he knows that, a situation he still blames himself for sometimes. In that moment, he gets it. That her love for him in that moment saved him, and he's done everything short of being able to repay her.

The toy car sits between them as a small barrier, but Marissa knows there's been one between them for weeks. She braves a look at him, and he's staring at his shoes. After everything they've been through, she still sees the boy who offered her a cheesy pick up line before a cigarette and meaningful glances.

He misses her, he can admit that to himself now. She has a calming presence that everyone else seems to lack, or at least a presence that makes itself known when he lets himself think about her. Her soft smile, her deep gaze.

The sun sets over the horizon and it fills the sky with orange hues. It's something they used to watch together sometimes, comforted by only each other and the looming nightfall.

She doesn't leave, and for that he's grateful.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Takes place post 3x19. I'm pretty sure Johnny was cremated but pretend he still had a gravestone for the sake of this drabble. Reviews are love.

* * *

He sees her before she sees him, he knows.

Her hands are in the pocket of a tattered grey sweatshirt as she surveys the rows of gravestones. Johnny's is one she can never remember the location of.

Ryan readies himself for her to draw near, deciding that there's no way he can avoid this. She's still looking at the ground, counting up and down the rows before she turns. He studies her as she draws closer and closer, the just-washed hair and tired eyes. It's the first time he's been able to study her face in ages, even if it is several meters away and her eyes are cast downward.

Marissa looks up when she thinks she's getting close to Johnny's stone, and finally her eyes lock with his. She's taken aback, and he watches several emotions cross over her face before she sets her jaw and hardens her eyes.

"What're you doing here?" she asks low.

He bites his lip, gesturing to the gravestone. "Saying hi."

Her eyes narrow before they lower to the stone. There are the words _beloved son and friend_ , and she feels like gagging at the situation she's found herself in. She wants to question Ryan for being there, for acting as if Johnny being gone was so awful for him when it clearly wasn't.

"It's my fault," Ryan says abruptly. "The accident."

Marissa's instinct is to give him comforting words as always, but she bites her tongue. The accident wasn't his fault, of course it wasn't. But that doesn't excuse his behavior afterwards, either.

"It's not," she says on a breath without realizing.

He looks up at her with pointed eyes and hers lock with his. It's the closest they've been in weeks and there's a palpable tension between them. She wonders if it'll ever leave. It's her who breaks eye contact, the feelings of hurt and heartbreak taking over again. Being around him is always too much or too little.

"So Sadie stayed?" Marissa asks, deliberately moving her gaze downward to not give anything away. He doesn't need to know what she did, he doesn't need to know how much she still cares.

Ryan nods, and she almost finds satisfaction in him clearly remembering his forgotten girlfriend. Girlfriend? Marissa's heart constricts at the thought.

He takes her in and feels himself wanting to walk closer to her, but he stops himself. He's not allowed to do that anymore – there are rules. Bringing up Sadie feels like a low blow, but, as ever, he's still trying to figure Marissa out.

She tightens the sweater around her when a breeze comes through the graveyard and he gets a good look at her when her eyes scan the trees around them. Her wet hair is bunching on her shoulders and she looks sadder than he's been letting himself believe.

"I'll go," he lets out, relieving himself from having to be around her any more than he already has.

Marissa nods silently and they move around each other. She sits down in front of Johnny's grave and pulls her legs to her chest. It's not a fetal position, but he can't help but think she looks childlike. If he tries hard enough, he can forget the way it felt for his arm to touch her sleeve and how his every nerve felt like a live wire.

Ryan thinks about walking away in silence, he really does. He's got his hand on the keys in his pocket and they could ignore this conversation ever existed. It'd be easy; it's not like she's in school much lately anyway.

He turns around and glances at her. She's mumbling something, he thinks, and she looks so small.

"Why are you with Volchok?"

She looks up at him and he finds his feet walking toward her again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Marissa sighs and he watches her take a breath. "Who are you to ask me that?"

His jaw sets as she gets up from the ground, eyeing him warily. He licks his lips and feels his anger rise. "He's bad for you."

She shakes her head and crosses her arms. She tries to conceal the fact that she's holding back tears, an avalanche of emotion she's been trying to hold in for weeks. That's just something she never wants Ryan to ever see again. "You don't know him."

Ryan almost laughs. "And you do?"

She shrugs and meets his gaze. "He's not that bad."

"You always fucking do that-"

"Do what?" she asks with growing fury.

"Take a shot on these guys! Jesus," he says, and her face is nearly unreadable.

Marissa shakes her head, rehashing old arguments. Of course they are. "Why were you even here? You didn't even like Johnny."

"I did," Ryan retorts.

"You didn't," she says, biting her tongue from saying more. Like the abhorrent thought of Ryan being glad Johnny was gone, even if part of her thought it was true.

"After everything I did for him?"

She shrugs and moves her gaze to anywhere but him. They're in silence for a moment, and it's deafening. There are layers upon layers of issues they're probably never going to unpack, and the thought is sobering and sad.

"It's because he's the only one that's there." It's said so suddenly, so silently, that he thinks he didn't hear her at all.

He looks up at her and her eyes are so sad, so matter-of-fact. It does things to his heart. He knows he had a part in that. He knows that her unhappiness has been tied to him on more than one occasion.

Marissa goes to sit back down in front of the grave, and he hears a small sob escape her lips. Ryan's helpless, has been for months it seems, at being the person she needs. The state of their relationship sneaks back up on him and so much wants to pour out of his mouth, but nothing does. If there was anyone that could bring it out of him, it'd be her, but they're too far away, too irreparable.

He watches her give him a sidelong glance to see if he's still there.

"I'm sorry," Ryan says, and as soon as it comes out, he knows it's the lamest thing he can give her.

She nods, wiping away a stray tear before mumbling, "It's whatever. Everyone leaves eventually."

His brows crease, and part of him doesn't want her to lump him in that category. They ended things mutually, didn't they? The way she avoids his gaze feels purposeful.

"Not everyone," he offers, and she lets out a small sardonic laugh.

Marissa's eyes are on the gravestone in front of her, gazing at the chiseled words, before looking up at Ryan sadly. "I lost him and then I lost you. Feels remarkably similar to me."

.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This one is probably riddled with mistakes, but it was written in one sitting and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Again with the wish fulfillment and constant disappointment of late (and all of) season three. Takes place post 3x19. Imagine Ryan isn't an out-of-character asshole in this part of the season for like five seconds.

It's been years and I'm still upset at Josh Schwartz. Put that on my gravestone.

* * *

He walks into the poolhouse with Sadie, and immediately recognizes the faint scent of Chanel. It's so faint that he thinks he's imagining it, briefly remembers that it used to be a regular occurrence in the poolhouse after nights spent over, blonde hair splayed across his pillows.

 _It's from before_ , he thinks. Hopes.

Ryan turns his tv on and hopes that Sadie doesn't smell it, that she'll join him on the edge of the bed and play World of Warcraft and he can stop thinking for once. He doesn't need to associate the two of them. Isn't it part of the reason he's with her, the difference? The thoughts jumble in his head. He starts seeing blonde hair instead of brown and a deepness to blue eyes that shouldn't mean anything to him anymore.

A pillow is thrown by his head in mock anger, telling him to pay better attention to the game, when she sees it.

"Marissa was here?" Sadie asks, and Ryan's eyes narrow.

"What?"

"Was she here?"

He shakes his head. "No," amends, because of the scent– "I don't know."

Sadie angles her head toward the door. By the chair in the corner is a box with Ryan's name on it. It hits him harder than he expects, to have his things returned to him. He figured she'd keep whatever he'd left in the trailer or left in her locker at school.

He gets up and reads the post-it note,"Ryan, here's your stuff –Marissa." It doesn't hurt that it's impersonal, but that she felt compelled to return his things in the first place. It didn't really occur to him to return one of her Harbor hoodies or the hairspray sitting above the sink in his bathroom.

"Ryan, hello-" comes from the edge of his bed.

He doesn't know how long he's been silent, if Sadie's been speaking to him as he read the quick note and glanced inside the box holding the last year of their relationship.

"Yeah, right. Warcraft," he replies, sliding back to the bed and picking up his controller.

There's at least three Journey cds, a Killers concert tee shirt, and a few wifebeaters inside the box. That's what he could see on his glance, and willed Sadie away in his mind so he could process the box and Marissa leaving it when he wasn't there. Is she sitting on the lifeguard stand, alone and upset?

Sadie pauses the game with an aggrieved sigh. "Are you even listening to me?"

There's a second when he realizes she shouldn't see him roll his eyes. It's a shock to his system, that Marissa's not in the poolhouse instead. Not painting her nails with Summer while he and Seth duke it out on Grand Theft Auto. That she's not staying for dinner because Sandy and Kirsten insisted she should and picking out a movie to watch later. That she's not in his life anymore.

He gives Sadie a side glance and lets out a breath. "Just a lot on my mind."

It's not a lie; she'd probably not be pleased about the thoughts running around his head. That maybe this, all of this, feels wrong.

She lets out a sigh. "I know we're not super serious, but if you need time-"

"I don't," he remarks, adds, "I don't think I do."

They sit in awkward silence before Sadie speaks again, sounding disappointed. "You should know that she came to the bus stop. She stopped me from leaving."

Ryan's eyes meet hers, and she doesn't miss the jolt in his expression, the acknowledgement coursing through his veins. He looks away.

He doesn't think he'd ever do the same for Marissa, stop Volchok–just the idea of that guy pisses him off– from leaving. Do something selfless. Out of the times he's thought her selfish, even those awful times when he let her know, this erases it all for him. That she could do that for him. And the anger he had for her vanishes away, because of course she did that for him. Of course she stopped Sadie from leaving. Of course she put his needs before her own.

Going to see her feels like the obvious thing to do. Ask her if she's really okay. Be there for her if she lies and says she is.

His eyes fall on the box in the corner again, and he lets out a reluctant sigh. She didn't leave it in person, didn't call to see when they could meet. Returning his things is a way of her moving on, and he figures he should as well.

Ryan turns toward Sadie and gives her a smile he hopes she doesn't see through.

.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Set during 3x22. It's generally a good episode for them, but I wanted to explore something else that could have happened. I didn't necessarily plan for these drabbles to be in chronological order, but here we are. Eventually if I'm inspired I'll write more from earlier episodes.

* * *

"Did you love him?"

Marissa looks up from her drink into Wes' curious eyes. "What?"

He smiles. "Ryan."

"Oh, well-"

"Sorry to pry-"

"No- I mean, well yeah. But, uh, yeah. I can admit that."

"What happened with you two?" He asks, sipping his beer.

She looks up at him, the stubble on his chin and the way he holds himself. Berkeley isn't exactly what she thought it would be. There's rain and lush, green grass and she could see herself studying in the quad one day, but there's something about it that doesn't fit.

She goes for, "It's complicated," an utterly succinct, yet correct way to sum up her relationship with Ryan. She hasn't let herself dwell on his place in her life the past few weeks and she's pretty sure he's done the same.

Wes nods. "I get that. So were you two together long?"

"On and off for a while," she answers briskly.

"Ah."

Marissa looks up, having sensed something in his tone. "Hmm?"

He smiles in a way that she thinks he's doing to appear older and more wise, as if he's not only a year or two older than her. "I just think that, you know, high school relationships aren't exactly-"

"We were serious," she interrupts. For some reason, casting aside their years-long back-and-forth as _high school_ feels wrong. "I mean, we had our issues. Still do, obviously."

"Hey, sorry," he says, lifting his free hand in the air in peace. "I guess I've never had that."

Marissa feels the alcohol warm her up slowly, and realizes that this dorm feels too cramped. "It's fine, I'm gonna go outside."

Raindrops fall when she steps out. Finding a bench, she tries to light her Camel three times before it finally catches, the orange light breathing in and out. The rain is light, but it's not uncomfortable.

Tapping away the ash, she brings the cigarette back up to her mouth, inhaling for as long as she can, trying to feel the smoke in the back of her throat. There's something soothing about smoking, something personal and intimate in the act.

"Hey," she hears, and she breathes out in return.

It's Ryan, red solo cup in hand. She considers the image and finds that it fits, even though it's completely different than any side of him she's seen before. But Marissa can see him here, talking it up at a freshman mixer, walking back and forth to class.

She grins at him in response, crossing her legs as he joins her on the bench. The rain is coming down now in a mist, and she revels in it. This climate is so opposite Newport, it nearly takes her breath away. Slowly taking a drag, she catches him eyeing her and feels a smirk graze her lips.

He picks up her pack and gestures if he can have one. Marissa nods, grateful to have left her lighter in the box. Reliving the way he tended to light his would bring their faces close, and she's been doing well at keeping their relationship, or whatever it is these days, at bay.

"You know I quit," Ryan says with a lilt in his voice, cupping his hands around the lighter and flicking it.

"I know you act that way."

He gives her a look.

Marissa flicks away some ash. "You smoke when you're stressed." She takes a drag, amends, "At least you used to."

He nods, blowing out smoke into the misty air. "It reminds me of home. Reminds me of you, too."

She looks up, doesn't know what to say to that. It's how they met, how they deal with being in close quarters when they're uncomfortable with it. Having him back in her life these last two days has been strange. She didn't know what to expect, but she certainly didn't expect a revelation like that.

Marissa decides to let it go and not say anything. He'd been the one to end it, to call her after dodging her calls and put an end to the near-year of their relationship. It'd been him. No matter how much she wanted it to feel mutual, it never did.

His eyes look over her as he blows out more smoke, and the smell of her and tobacco has always been a heady combination. Ryan's fingers hold the cigarette loosely, and he's reminded of Saturday afternoons in Chino. Being here, on the road to actually _going here_ is such a massive leap from that previous life.

He wonders if he hadn't fled Sandy's car for a smoke if he'd have ever really gotten to meet her, if the stars had aligned differently.

"That night," Marissa says, breaking their silence. "Luke asked why I smelled like smoke."

"Yeah? What'd you say?"

She smiles, stubbing the filter out. "That earlier that night I snuck it out my window. Which I guess wasn't a total lie since he knew I'd done that before."

He smirks, bringing the filter to his lips and inhaling again.

Marissa bites her lip nervously, looking over at him. He reminds her so much of the boy who held his lit cigarette to her to light her own, their faces close and their breaths in sync.

There's so much she would change if she could go back.

The way his eyes move over her makes her nervous.

Droplets fall on her shoulders, but being here with him has made her feel more at ease than she has with anyone else for a long while.

"Another?" he asks with a grin, the rain threatening to come down harder. It doesn't seem to matter much to either of them.

She smiles. "Sure."

.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This takes place at the end of 3x23, the prom episode. Obviously inferior to s2's prom episode, but still better than mid s3. Anyway, this was sitting unfinished in my drive so I wanted to finish it. For this series of (long) drabbles I'm sort of out of concrete ideas, though there are always ones floating around my mind. I don't have any other drafts lying around for this series, so I'll leave this as incomplete for if I ever want to revisit it, which is likely.

Thanks to those who have reviewed – I truly appreciate it.

* * *

She's just changed into sweatpants and an old tee shirt she's not sure is hers when the doorbell rings downstairs. Waiting four, five seconds and she hears the bell again. Apparently Neil and Julie aren't home, and Marissa lets out a curse as she rushes down the stairs, fully expecting a drunk Summer with a lopsided crown and vomit-stained dress.

"Seth, don't you have a key?" she says, swinging their French door open.

Instead, it's Theresa.

Marissa does a double take. This girl in front of her, sometimes friend, sometimes– enemy, is it?

"Theresa," she starts. "Everything okay?"

The brunette nods. "Yeah, I think so. Seth and Summer are still at the after party, I think he'll bring her home when she stops retching."

After a small, polite laugh, Marissa purses her lips. Seeing Theresa again felt nice but she's never been under the impression that they'll ever be the best of friends.

"Sorry for popping up here. I just wanted to talk-"

For some reason, Marissa isn't up for it. "If you don't mind, I just felt like being alone. Eating ice cream, watching a movie… so I don't think-"

Theresa clears her throat. "I wanted to talk about Ryan."

There's a slight breeze and Theresa holds her wrap tighter around her. Marissa feels like rolling her eyes, as if rehashing their tumultuous relationship is something she wants to do. Thinking about him in the context of more than a friend these days hurts. Her chest aches and there's a feeling inside her that just won't die. It was easier with Kevin, there weren't feelings involved. She may have been angry and embarrassed but she wasn't sad that he'd strayed. If anything, she probably expected it.

"That's about the last thing I feel like doing," she tells the girl in front of her. Her hand is steady on the front door, her tee shirt lightly blowing in the warm breeze. "Especially with you."

"Especially with me?" It's asked with genuine curiosity.

The blonde lets out a chuckle. She'd seen the doe eyes Theresa was eyeing Ryan with all night, the eyes Marissa was no stranger to. It almost felt full circle, Anna and Theresa back in their lives. The same girls to make Summer and Marissa feel insecure and for good reason. The symmetry, she thinks, is impeccable.

Theresa tries a different tactic, "Can you tell me what happened with Trey?"

This gets Marissa's attention. She's been doing everything possible the last few months to forget Trey.

"I figured you knew," she responds, crossing her arms, trying not to let her vulnerability show. She's always felt inferior to this girl for some reason.

"I do, at least part of it. My mom read about the shooting in the paper. But Ryan doesn't want to say much about it."

"Yeah, that's Ryan for you."

Theresa nods. "Yeah, it is."

Her arms still crossed, Marissa lets out a sigh. "What's there to know?"

"I guess… the aftermath of it all. Ryan says he's in Vegas now."

Marissa rolls the information around in her mind. He hadn't told her that at all. Were they in contact? How long did Ryan know? She knows he went to the bus stop and didn't get to say goodbye, but was there more?

"Marissa?"

"Huh?"

"You kind of went away for a while there."

"Right, sorry."

She looks Theresa up and down and even though there's something inside her that doesn't want Theresa in her new home, something about this girl from Ryan's past viewing her as a privileged princess, she can't help but invite her in. "Come on, sitting on the steps wouldn't be good for your dress."

They walk into the living room and Marissa takes a place at the end of the leather couch. She tries not to think of the times she curled up to Ryan on this very couch for movie nights with Summer and Seth.

She tells Theresa about the shooting, glosses over the catalyst for the shooting, subconsciously moving a hand over the spot where her invisible scar lies, soft and supple months after fading. She briefly describes the summer after it, the questioning from the authorities, the back and forth. She can't go into detail, there are memories she saves for herself and maybe Summer or Ryan once upon a time when she felt safe and open. But times have changed, and there's another tragedy occupying her mind these days. She's only just now beginning to stop blaming herself for Johnny.

Theresa listens with concern and acknowledgment. She frowns at the right times and only interjects to say _I'm so sorry, Marissa_ every few minutes.

"So yeah, that's in the past now," the blonde finishes with a breath, fiddling with a piece of chipped polish from her nail. There's something relieving about telling someone else, expressing the events that have clouded her mind the past few months. Someone outside the core people who were part of it. Of course, she remembers, she told Johnny too.

There's silence for at least 30 seconds, that Marissa does know. But it feels longer than that, feels like minutes rather than half of one.

"That's obviously not true," Theresa says, refolding her legs. It's so obvious to her that she almost chuckles.

Marissa looks up. "It is."

There's a purse of Theresa's lips and Marissa's grateful she doesn't delve further into it.

Before she realizes what she's doing, Marissa says softly, "He blames me."

"Blames you for what?" Theresa asks.

Now Marissa remembers why they were friendly long ago. She could talk to Theresa, could get a feeler for Ryan's past and who he was. Theresa's not afraid to speak her mind, not afraid to press Ryan's buttons, and she admires that.

"Trey's gone. I'm why he's gone."

As if it weren't a thought she's had for nearly a year. Nearly every time she looked at Ryan it felt like there was an uncrossable bridge between them. Eventually that bridge manifested itself into Johnny.

Theresa touches the middle part of the couch, an area of fabric between them. It's a sign of solidarity and compassion. "Marissa, that's not true."

She lets out a sad chuckle. Bringing all this up again dredges up the feelings she's been trying so hard to suppress. Summer seemed to take Ryan's side post-breakup and Seth's attention couldn't focus on her problems for more than five minutes. Marissa brings her legs to her chest and lets herself feel the emotions she's been pushing away the past few months. Of course it's true that Ryan blames her, even if it is deep down. "It is, but that's okay. We're friends now, sort of."

It's Theresa's time to laugh. "Right."

"We are," the blonde replies defensively. She can't let herself feel more for him. He hurt her and she hurt him and that's how their story ends.

Theresa gives her a knowing look she can't quite understand. Having this girl back in town brings up memories of two years ago, of a summer spent with only shoplifted liquor and darkness. Sometimes it was easy to forget about Theresa, forget that she had Ryan first in all the ways Marissa wished she had instead.

"I saw the way he looked at you," the brunette says wistfully. "At the dance."

Marissa bristles. "Yeah, well I saw the way you looked at him."

Their eyes meet for a brief second and Theresa looks away. "I'm always gonna love him, but..." She drifts off in a way that Marissa understands.

The blonde looks away too, toward the unnecessary fireplace and its flames. As if it ever gets cold in Southern California. She feels transported to two years ago – she'll have to point out the full circle thing to Summer tomorrow.

"Maybe you should go for it," Marissa says. It sounds hollow. She doesn't mean it, not in the slightest, but the words come out anyway.

There's always been something in the back of her head telling her that Theresa would never be completely out of the picture. Maybe Ryan belongs with his lifelong friend, the girl he took to dances and shares a long history with.

The look on Theresa's face is humorous. She lets out an embarrassed smile. "No matter how I feel for him, he feels more for you. I saw it tonight."

Theresa won't tell her about the almost-kiss toward the end of the after-party, won't tell her that she and Ryan were approaching dangerous and reckless territory. Because that's what they've always done.

She saw their bleak future the summer he lived with her in Chino, disinterestedly going to doctor's appointments and grimacing at the lunches she packed for him.

"I'm familiar," she admits to Marissa, whose ears perk up when she breaks the silence. "That's what I am to him. But you, he can't even describe what you are."

 _Like he tried_ , Marissa says to herself.

She brings her legs to her chest and tells herself that she can't be sucked into this again. Losing Johnny and then Ryan in succession was too much to take. It gave her too much time to think, to realize certain things about the choices she made. Shaking her head, she tries to push the thoughts away again, and hates that she wants to raid Neil's liquor cabinet.

"He's stubborn," Theresa continues. "He doesn't believe he deserves to be happy. Some sort of self-inflicted punishment, I think."

Marissa gives her a stare. Is she trying to give Marissa pointers? She doesn't understand where this conversation is going, and is starting to feel the effects of the vodka from earlier.

"But you- he trusts you in a way that I'll never be able to touch. I used to hate that."

"I felt the same way about you," the blonde admits, biting her lip and looking at the other girl cautiously. "But I don't think you're right about me. And anyway, we've hurt each other-"

"I know. At least- I can see it. But he needs you."

Theresa gets up to leave and they exchange silent glances as they walk toward the door, Marissa mulling over the words in her mind. She decides to give the picture upstairs that Summer keeps on her bedside table another glance, the one of the four of them in Tijuana.

Theresa's about to walk away when Marissa calls out to her.

"Why did you lie to him? About the baby?"

It's been running through her head ever since she heard the news. Despite Volchok and prom occupying her thoughts, that slithered its way into the depths of her mind late at night.

The brunette turns toward her with a smile that doesn't touch her eyes, but instead makes her look sad but accepting. "He was miserable. And he belongs here. With the Cohens, and," she stops for a second, looking Marissa in the eye. This girl is so many things she's not, and the tides turned the second Ryan left Chino for a new life in Newport. She knows Ryan better than she knows herself, but the girl standing across from her in sweatpants and a messy ponytail knows him in ways that Theresa never will. Never could, once he came to this town.

"And you. With you."

.


End file.
